by Noelle Adams
Again she shook her head as she stared down at the floor.
“I wouldn’t ask this of you, Maggie if it wasn’t important. You are the only person that I trust for this assignment.”
Raising her head, her brown eyes filled with tears, she asked, “Why? Why me?”
William sighed. “Ever since Lucas and Emma fell in love, Jason has had sort of a target on his back. We can’t seem to keep an assistant for him. He’s been stalked, propositioned…you name it, these women have done it. Most men would be flattered but Jason takes his work very seriously and he needs someone who’ll do the same.”
“I still don’t understand how this involves me.”
“When I took you in with Montgomery’s, Maggie, you asked me to do what I could to protect you, right?” She nodded. “One of the things that I did was lie for you; as far as anyone in the company knows, you are a married woman. You and I are the only ones here that know differently.”
Maggie considered his words. “So you think since everyone believes me to be married that I’m a safe bet for Jason’s assistant?”
“That’s exactly what I’m thinking. Jason isn’t looking to seduce anyone and he certainly isn’t looking to be seduced. I would think that you, more than anyone, can understand his position.”
She blushed. Maggie tried to never think about the way that she had come to work for William Montgomery and in the three years that she’d been here, this was the first time they’d even remotely referred to it. “I can respect the situation, Sir; I just don’t feel comfortable…”
“Maggie?” he interrupted gently. “It’s time. You’ve hidden yourself down in customer service long enough. I hired you without knowing a damn thing about you; the woman I met needed help and I gave it. I’m asking you to return the favor.”
How could she say no to that? The man had given her a safe haven; a job where she didn’t feel hunted or that she was there for any other reason than to do her job. “How can I be sure that I won’t find myself in the same situation I was when you met me?”
William’s expression softened as he looked at her. “Maggie, I give you my word that you will never, ever find yourself in such a position; not with Jason and not with anyone here at Montgomery’s.”
She stood and looked down at her boss. A simple nod of her head was the only response that she gave.
William rose to his feet and faced her. “If at any time, for any reason, you feel like something isn’t right, I want you to promise me that you’ll call and I’ll believe whatever it is that you tell me and I’ll get you out of there, okay?”
Again, all she could do was nod.
“I’ll let Ann know to get the paperwork started and I’ll let Rose know that you’ll be working with her the rest of the week to get acquainted with things up here and I’ll arrange for you to meet with Jason.” A wild look of panic crossed Maggie’s face and William made a quick decision. “We’ll meet with him together; you and me, okay?”
Maggie took a steadying breath and agreed.
Then silently prayed that she hadn’t just made the second biggest mistake of her life.
More than a Kiss
Stacey Joy Netzel
Dedication
Patti
Thanks for listening to me ramble about my writing as we walk.
So much more than a neighbor, you are a true friend.
I am blessed to have you in my life.
Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
About the Author
Teaser from Lost in Italy
One
Sadie Barton’s fingers tangled together at her waist as she hovered just inside the doorway of a classroom at West Hollywood High. The set looked and sounded like a war zone–figuratively speaking, of course. And yet still fitting, considering her sister’s role in the commercial.
The intimidation factor rose exponentially. MovieMail was the biggest mail-order and online DVD rental company in the country and this commercial would be aired nationally. Her stomach flip-flopped at the mere thought and she shook her hands a couple times as if to fling away her tension. It didn’t work.
Why did I let Gemma talk me into this harebrained scheme?
If her sister weren’t puking up her guts this morning, she’d turn around and go home. If they didn’t need the money to pay next month’s rent, she’d definitely turn around and go home.
Unfortunately, her wage as a human interest reporter at Life’s a Beach and Then Sun Times didn’t stretch far enough to cover all the bills. Especially when they’d just cut her back to three days a week. Until Sadie found another job, they needed any acting work Gemma could get—which is how Sadie ended up here. Damaging a fledgling professional reputation by having Gemma call in sick to the biggest job she’d gotten since they’d arrived in California six months ago was not a risk they could take.
Thank God, it wasn’t a speaking part. Then they’d really be in trouble for the ruse. But sitting at a desk in costume was something Gemma assured her would be a piece of cake. Sadie had her doubts, but since she refused to call their mom and stepfather for help, here she stood—shaking in her tennis shoes.
So much for the Barton Sisters from Wisconsin taking L.A. by storm.
Chaos reigned in the form of cameras and cameramen, grips, boom operators, lighting technicians, and assistants with headsets. Then there were the myriad of actors and actresses in full costume. Her gaze skimmed over a cowboy and an Indian lounging in the back, a construction worker sitting at one of the desks with his arms crossed on top his hardhat, a bandaged soldier covered in dirt and blood leaning against the ledge by the window, and a woman dressed in a crisp business suit conversing with a gladiator a few feet away.
She’d been on a few sets with her sister over the past couple months, but for the life of her, she didn’t see where she was supposed to go for her own uniform today.
A woman carrying a clipboard rushed toward the door where Sadie stood.
“Excuse me, where can I—”
The brunette held up a hand as she shoved past. “Busy.”
Sadie blinked. O-kay. Raised voices carried to her from across the room. Another person approached, but she gave Sadie pretty much the same response, albeit less polite words. She clenched her jaw in trepidation, and a twinge of annoyance. Good thing she was getting paid for this. Or Gemma was. One of them at least.
“Lost, Goldilocks?”
The deep, masculine voice came from directly behind her. Its sexy timbre sent a reactive shiver along her spine. Thankful at least one person was nice enough to actually help, she ignored the tiny spurt of resentment for the condescending nickname.
“I’m looking for costumes,” she admitted, turning to face her ally with a grateful smile.
Confronted by a rotted-flesh, gray-haired, rag-dressed zombie, Sadie drew back with an appalled gasp. God, she hated horror films.
The realistic looking zombie laughed. Through grotesque face makeup, white teeth flashed, all the brighter next to the sickly pallor of his skin. Nice smile—if she could get past cracked lips, a gaping gash along his cheekbone and dried blood smeared past his jaw line. She really hated horror films.
Humor might have twinkled in his eyes, but special-effect contacts made it impossible to read the creepy matte-black orbs sunk deep into their sockets by a ring of coal-black eyeliner.
; “I’m Zach.”
“Sadie.” Shoot. Should’ve said Gemma. Too late now.
“Nice to meet you.” He stuck out a hand that looked like it’d been caught in a trash compactor and left to bake and blister in the blazing sun for a week. “What are you playing?”
“Battlefield Nurse.” She gingerly accepted his hand; rubbery flesh squished between her fingers. She jerked free, unable to suppress a shudder of revulsion.
Zach just grinned again. “Nurse?” He reached up and tugged on one of her corkscrew curls. “What the heck happened to casting? Candy striper would be more age appropriate.”
When he released the strand of hair, it bounced and bobbed in front of her nose. Sadie blew it back in place with an annoyed huff. Freckles, natural blond curls, and looking nowhere near her age really sucked when she was twenty-four and trying to be taken seriously in a professional industry.
Most of the time she and Gemma could pass for twins, but Gemma had suggested she skip cosmetics to save time in hair and make-up on set. Without it, she appeared even younger than her twenty-one year old sister. Sadie knew she’d come to view the curse as a benefit someday, but not today. And especially not if someone found out about their little switch. The less attention she drew the better. She’d learned that lesson in high school.
Sadie sent her eyebrows toward the ceiling in what hopefully passed as polite inquiry. “Costumes?”
His blinding grin flashed as he pointed down the hall. “Third door on the left, Goldie.”
The name grated, but she muttered a grudging “Thanks” and didn’t spare him a second glance as she brushed by.
Crisp, tangy citrus combined with the heady scent of pure ‘mmm’-inducing maleness inundated her senses and paused her step. Sweet heaven, how could a zombie smell so good? She clenched her fists, straightened her back, and marched away.
A half an hour later, the make-up artist tilted Sadie’s chin left, then right. The slight furrow between her brows and downward tilt of her mouth did not convey satisfaction in her work.
“It’ll have to do,” she sighed, tucking her fire-engine-red hair behind her ears.
Sadie peered into the mirror. She didn’t see the problem. If anything, she was impressed. The sedate image staring back at her was definitely more mature. She almost looked her real age. Her hair had been secured into a severe bun and covered with a starched, white nurse’s hat. The dark gray dress sported a demure collar and was accented by a white apron with a bold red cross displayed prominently across her chest. To complete the outfit, she’d squeezed her feet into white shoes one size too small.
The costume designer stepped over to check out the final result. She exchanged glances with the redhead, then shrugged.
“You’d better hurry,” the designer told Sadie. “Russ is on a tear to get this thing in the can today.”
Nervous over their hesitation and wincing at her cramped toes, Sadie made her way back to the classroom. Which guy was Russ? She scanned the sea of faces, hoping to pinpoint the man in charge so she could avoid his cross-hairs.
Instead, her gaze locked on Zach and moved no further. With one shoulder braced against the wall, arms folded over his chest, and feet crossed negligently at the ankles, he was about the same height as many of the other actors in the room. When he straightened, though, he topped them by a couple inches.
He seemed to be listening to a discussion between two men standing nearby. Wonder what he looks like when he isn’t…undead. Did the rest of him match his smile, or—
His attention shifted and he caught her staring. After an obvious once-over, the slow, negative shake of his head was accompanied by a sardonic grin.
Ugh. In place of the one nice thing about him, his smile, he now wore a prosthetic with black gaps where teeth should’ve been. She shuddered.
The ghoulish grin mocked her as she joined the rest of the actors and actresses waiting to be directed to their spot in the commercial. Determined to ignore him, she stayed on the edge of the group, her back to his offensive presence. Twice she had to catch herself from glancing over her shoulder.
A sudden whiff of citrus sent her stomach into an Olympic-sized tumble seconds before Zach’s low voice rumbled in her ear.
“I still don’t buy it.”
She glared over her shoulder, but couldn’t stomach the realistic zombie guise. Staring forward, she clasped her hands tight against her unsettled stomach and whispered, “What is your problem?”
“You’re too young for the part, Goldie.”
Jerk was going to ruin everything. “Why do you even care? Leave me alone.”
“You don’t fit.”
The teasing curiosity of his earlier comments had given way to a note of suspicion. Sadie took one look at his narrowed gaze and had to battle another blast of nerves that had nothing to do with his zombie makeup. Alarm took over when he grasped her arm and made her face him.
“Who cast you?”
“Billy,” Sadie replied without hesitation. Thank God Gemma had giggled and gushed about the cute casting director who’d flirted like there was no tomorrow.
“And exactly how old are you?” Zach demanded.
Who is this guy? She thrust out her chin and hoped she achieved haughty. “That is none of your business.”
“That bastard,” he muttered. Unreadable before, his black eyes now glittered with unmistakable anger, bringing his costume to life. His fingers tightened on her arm. “Did he proposition you?”
“What?”
“Did he give you the part in exchange for you sleeping with him?”
Sadie sucked in a shocked breath. “Of course not!”
Then she paused. At least she didn’t think so. Gemma was old enough to make her own decisions, but she wouldn’t do that…would she? Oh, God, they’d gone over the bills just before Gemma had auditioned for this part…
Sadie shook her head vehemently. No. Definitely not. Her older sister protective streak exploded and she wrenched her arm from Zach’s grasp. “Listen, you jerk. I got the part the same as anyone else, so back off.”
A shrill whistle from the front of the classroom silenced the dim roar of voices. Sadie gave the overbearing zombie a sideways glare before directing her attention front and center.
“All right folks, Romantic Comedy’s better half didn’t show.”
The speaker, the man Sadie now guessed was Russ The Director, squeezed the shoulder of a dark-haired pretty boy who preened beside him like he was God’s gift to women.
“We are not delaying this shoot, so I need a volunteer to kiss this handsome young man, and I need her now.”
Sadie made a face and felt no desire to raise her hand. The guy next to the redheaded director was so obviously full of himself he reminded her of the rich kids from the private school her stepfather had insisted she and Gemma attend because his money was too good for public education. Besides, she’d never kiss a complete stranger in front of a whole roomful of people like this, no matter how much they paid her.
Paid Gemma, she reminded herself, and all the more reason to wait in silence.
“You.” The man in charge pointed in Sadie’s direction.
She turned to see which brave soul behind her had volunteered. Not a single hand was raised, nor had anyone stepped forward. In fact, the people behind her were looking at her.
“Oh, yeah, I like nurses. I got no problem sucking face with that all day.”
What?
Amidst juvenile snickers, Sadie spun around and discovered all eyes front and center zeroed in on her, too. Caught in a virtual spotlight, she suddenly felt bad for the insects she’d pinned to Styrofoam back in high school science class.
Pretty Boy grinned his smarmy grin from ear to ear and snapped his gum. Suck face with him? Not happening. No way. She wrinkled her nose in distaste. Of all days, Gemma had to get sick today, didn’t she? Now their simple little switch was turning into her own little horror show.
Before she could voice her polite bu
t adamant refusal, a snort erupted from Zombie Zach next to her. “You can’t use Goldie, Russ.”
Zealot Zach, she amended.
“Sure I can. She’s blond, she’s cute, she’s perfect.” Russ motioned to Sadie. “Come on, sweetheart, hop to it. Let’s get you back into wardrobe.”
“She’s jailbait!” Zach exclaimed. “She’s not doing it.”
And just like that, every single one of Sadie’s thoughts of refusal flew out the window. Who did this guy think he was to say what she could and couldn’t do? She and Gemma had come to California to escape the controlling thumb of their stepfather, now she had to deal with some stranger thinking he could make her decisions?
Add in his continued use of the infuriating, childish nickname and she had no problem channeling her fury into liberating defiance. She set her jaw and marched toward the classroom door.
Zach caught her arm from behind. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”
Sadie wrenched free and spun around, backing toward the doorway in her too small nurse’s shoes. “Oh, for God’s sake, I’m twenty-four, okay? More than old enough to make my own decisions.”
Two
Twenty-four?
Zach had never been so relieved to be wrong about something in his life. Being attracted to the cute little blond who smelled like a rain-washed ocean breeze and didn’t look a day over sixteen had been seriously messing with his head. Four years younger than him instead of twelve was much easier to handle.
Although…he hadn’t exactly endeared himself to her, had he?
That answer was more than apparent by the defiant glare she shot his way upon entering the classroom twenty minutes later. He remained slouched in the student desk Russ had assigned for the zombie, and threw Goldie a wide grin. Her expression morphed into a grimace and he knew the disgusting prosthetic teeth had done their job when she abruptly turned away.
He bit back a chuckle. Sitting in a classroom had brought out the second-grade version of himself. Then again, there appeared to be a pattern emerging in his life recently, and the school-room simply escalated the condition.
Make an adolescent bet with Russ. Check.
Lose the bet in a stupid, immature fashion. Double check.